


Your Friend and Partner

by gloria_scott



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Epistolary, M/M, POV First Person, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-04
Updated: 2011-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 23:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloria_scott/pseuds/gloria_scott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epistolary recounting Watson's thoughts on the eve of his wedding to Mary Morstan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Friend and Partner

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Originally written for [](http://lemonflav-lopfe.livejournal.com/profile)[**lemonflav_lopfe**](http://lemonflav-lopfe.livejournal.com/)  for her donation via the [](http://help-nz.livejournal.com/profile)[**help_nz**](http://help-nz.livejournal.com/)  auction.
> 
> (2) Inspired by Holmes' grabby hands throughout _The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton_.

My Dearest Holmes,

As you know, my time here at Baker Street is drawing to a close; tomorrow I shall be married and take up residence with my beautiful Mary. I am writing to you this evening to offer a confession, and an apology. You may think I am taking a dangerous chance with both our lives and livelihoods for putting these thoughts to paper, and you would be correct. For although the odious Mr. Charles Augustus Milverton himself has been dispatched (to a special hell, one should hope), it would be naïve to think there are no others waiting in the shadows, intent upon inflicting personal ruin for financial gain. Still, I write these words more for myself than for you, so that I may order my chaotic thoughts on the matter and perhaps find some semblance of meaning and, God willing, peace. No other eyes shall ever see them.

It would be good for me to recall the events of the Milverton case, for it turned out to be the catalyst for my impending nuptials, as you shall see. The first inkling I had that all was not as it should be was when you announced your engagement to Milverton’s housemaid. My initial reaction should have been vicarious joy for your good fortune. Instead, it felt as if a blacksmith had taken a heavy hammer to my chest. When you explained that your actions were solely to do with the case, and you had no intention of following through with your promise, I covered my considerable relief with indignation at the callousness of your methods. I had very little time to ruminate on my puzzling response to this news, for you were already off planning your next actions. I of course agreed and insisted on accompanying you when you proposed burgling Milverton’s house to retrieve Lady Eva Brackwell’s letters. You should know by now, old boy, that I would follow you into a dragons den.

That night, we entered the house without incident; my heart beat faster as you led me by the hand through the humid and aromatic conservatory to Milverton’s study. My agitated state, I thought, was easily explained by the dangerous nature of the situation. Indeed as you recall, we were nearly caught out by the villain himself, and had to duck behind the heavy curtains to hide when he unexpectedly entered the study. As we stood peering out with baited breath and racing hearts – our shoulders pressed firmly together – your hand crept into mine and gave it a reassuring shake.

An innocent gesture, I’m sure, but it was that touch that awakened feelings whose uneasy slumber I had carefully guarded until that moment. Since that evening’s adventures, I have been unable to put them to rest again, try as I might. I fear that I will ultimately be moved to act upon these impulses, and in so doing I will drive you away, for I have no reason to expect these feelings to be reciprocated. And, if by some improbably small chance they are, surely it is better that they remain unspoken and unconsummated. While I should have been honored to share a prison cell with you were we to have been apprehended in the act of burgling for a morally justifiable reason, I should rather die than be the cause of our internment on grounds of moral turpitude.

I have therefore chosen a course of strategic retreat. I have never once counted myself among the ranks of cowards, having proven my mettle in any number of skirmishes – both on the battlefield and by your side on the streets of London. This, however, seems the most prudent course of action; I hope you will understand and forgive me for it. There should be no shame, after all, in relinquishing my bachelorhood to enter the quietude of domesticity. I do love Mary, and I believe, in time, her love and care will cure me of my current affliction.

It may seem foolish to ask your forgiveness for a transgression of which you will never know, as I intend to burn this letter as soon as the ink is dry. Perhaps I am more the fool to think that you, whose keen powers of observation I have made it my life’s work to document, do not already know my heart. Indeed, it is likely you know it better even than I, coming late as I am to the realizations contained herein. I only hope you do not feel the same. I should not like to think that you were only waiting for me to catch up, for then I know my decision to marry would have disappointed and hurt you greatly.

Whether I am asking your forgiveness for my imprudent feelings or for abandoning our shared domicile because of them, I know not. I only know that I shall forever remain your friend and partner,

Dr. John H. Watson

  


 

 


End file.
